


Barely Escaped

by Imcalledzorro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 17:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16499798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imcalledzorro/pseuds/Imcalledzorro
Summary: The boys go after a windego, but get into trouble. HurtDean!





	Barely Escaped

**Author's Note:**

> Written several years ago, and just now importing it from FF.net.

_Thanks to griffin-girl02 for being a beta for this story! I don't own the Winchester brother, nor Supernatural.  I hope you enjoy, if you do it would be great if you dropped me a review I would appreciate it muchly!_

_Thanks to Chris for helping with the title! (the only nice thing you've ever done!_

 

 

“Come on Dean, please don’t do this!” Sam pleaded with his semiconscious brother.

            The two were making their way out of the woods in the pouring rain.  Dean was half collapsed on Sam bleeding from the wounds the massive black bear they had met earlier had inflicted on him.

            About a week ago, Sam and Dean heard about several campers that had disappeared in the mountains. When three more people disappeared, the brothers began to believe that a wendigo was behind the missing campers.

            The brothers had parked the Impala at the trailhead where the two most recent victims had last been seen. Sam and Dean each grabbed a flair gun, and Dean had packed his favorite pistol, for ‘protection against the beasties,’ he had told Sam.

            Sam had talked to the last victim’s family, and found out about where her campsite had been. The plan was to go into the old camp site, confirm that it was indeed a wendigo, and then track it back to its lair, dispose of the vile creature, and hike back out, easy as pie.

            The plan had started to fall to pieces at the campsite. Sam noticed some unusual prints that he didn’t recognize, and called Dean over. Sam showed him the prints and Dean swore a blue streak.

            “What?” Sam questioned.

            “These are bear prints.” Dean stated.

            “Are you kidding?”

            “Why would I joke about something like that. One time dad showed me some bear tracks, and these look just like them.”

            “So our wendigo is really just a bear?”

            “Looks like, college boy. Either that or after the Windego came by the bear raided the camp site. Either way we need to get out of here.”  Dean pulled out his pistol and turned around to head back the way they had come, when a black blur hit him from the side and sent his pistol flying.

            “Dean!” Sam screamed as he saw the bear slam into his older brother.   Sam stood frozen for a second, but when he heard Dean’s scream of pain he started searching for the pistol Dean had been holding. ~~~~

            Spotting the pistol, Sam sprinted for it.  He snatched it up, aimed at the bear’s gigantic head looming over his brother’s prone body, and squeezed the trigger, hoping that he didn’t hit Dean.

 

Chapter 2

 

Dean felt like a truck had ran him down, and then he realized that the rogue bear responsible for tearing up the camp was attacking him. A burst of fire ripped through his chest, eliciting a scream of pain from him.

In the back of his mind, he heard a voice from a wilderness class that his dad had made him take in high school,

 ‘Now class, in the very unlikely event that a bear should attack you, try to roll into a ball and play dead. If you are unable to do this, a hit on the nose should effectively stun the bear for a few seconds.’

Dean managed to hit the beast’s nose.  The bear backed off for a second and Dean tried to roll into a ball. Pain ripped through his arm, then he heard gunshots and felt the bear crumple beside him. A second later Sam was leaning over Dean, trying to see how badly the bear had mauled him.

Dean had four bloody gashes across his chest, and four more across his arm.

“Oh, crap,” involuntarily fell from Sam’s mouth. Then, realizing what he had said, told Dean “You’ll be ok. It’s not too bad.”

Dean managed to grind out between clenched teeth, “Liar, how bad?”

Sam reassessed his brother’s condition. Blood ran freely from both the chest and arm wounds. Both looked nasty, and needed to be cleaned and stitched. Dean was screwed and they both knew it.

“It’s not too bad,” Sam lied, “He only got you in the chest and arm.”  As Sam talked he took off his jacket and over shirt, and proceeded to tear it into strips and wrap them around the wounds to try and staunch the bleeding.

“I’m going to get these patched up and then we’re going back to the Impala and I’ll take you to a hospital. And don’t argue because bear’s claws have got to carry a lot of bacteria,”

“Shut-up,” Dean growled.  “You’re babbling and you do that when you get nervous. How bad is it, for real?”

 “The ones on your arm aren’t too bad, and the bleeding has almost stopped. But the ones on your chest are pretty deep, and are bleeding pretty freely,” Sam confessed. “I’m going to wrap them up, and then we’re out of here.”

Dean’s only response was a slight nod of his head. By the time Sam had the wounds bandaged, the sun had set and a light rain had started. Sam said a quick prayer, hoping that they could find help, and that Dean would be okay.

“OK, big brother, time to get you up.” Dean, not relishing the thought of standing much less walking asked, “Do I have to?” not caring in the least that he sounded like a petulant five-year-old.

“’Fraid so. Come on, I’ll help you,” Sam proceeded to more or less pull Dean upright.

The movement sent shards of pain all through his battered body, and Dean had to steel himself against crying out in pain. 

Sam put Dean’s uninjured arm around his neck, his own arm around Dean’s waist, and they slowly started on their way. After the first few steps, though, Sam realized he wasn’t sure which way the Impala was. He had gotten tuned around when the bear attacked. Saying another quick prayer, Sam hoped that they were going in the right direction, and the two brothers set out on a path to find Dean some much-needed help.

After they had been walking for about twenty minutes, the bottom fell out and the rain came pouring down.

Sam growled. ‘Could anything else go wrong?’ he thought. Ten minutes after that, Dean started stumbling. He was not even able to walk strait anymore.

“Come on Dean; let’s sit down for a few minutes.” Sam suggested as he eased his brother down under a tree.

The rain was still pouring down around them, and Sam didn’t know how much longer Dean would last. His chest was bleeding and he seemed barely coherent.

Sam bent down to Dean, “Hey, how are you doing?”

Dean looked at him miserably, “Not so good. Are we almost there?”

This admission scared the crap out of Sam. Dean never admitted to weakness unless it was really bad. He didn’t want to inform Dean that he had not clue where they were, or whether they were close to the Impala or not, so he decided to fib to make Dean feel better.

“Soon, big brother, soon. Just stay right here.  I’m going to scout ahead a little bit, OK?”

Dean was too tired and in too much pain to talk, or even to realize that Sam didn’t know where they were, so he just nodded.

Sam stood up and continued on in the direction they had been heading, hoping and praying to see some sign that civilization was near. After walking for about fifteen minutes, Sam thought he spied some lights in the distance. He was torn between checking out the lights and getting back to his brother. The worry for his brother won out, and Sam jogged back to where Dean was resting on the semi-dry ground under the tree.

Sam had to shake Dean a few times before he opened his eyes.

“Hey Sammy.” Dean looked at him questioningly. “Where did you go?” This scared Sam more than he would have liked. He had told Dean where he was going. Leaning in Sam placed his hand on Dean’s forehead, it was warm.

‘Crap, he’s already got infection setting in. Please Lord, let those lights be shelter.’ Sam thought.

As Sam helped Dean up, he told him, “I think I saw a house or something not too far away, so we’re almost there. Just hang on a bit longer. You’ll be ok, I promise.”

Dean said nothing; he just grimaced in pain as he slowly stood up.  The two brothers gradually made their way toward the far off light.

They finally made it to where Sam had sent the light, when Dean collapsed against Sam.

“Come on Dean, please don’t so this,” Sam pleaded. “We’re almost there. Please Dean.”

Dean heard his little brother’s pleading voice from seemingly far off.  ‘What does Sam want me to do?’ Then he remembered the bear, and the long trek for help, and realized that he had collapsed on Sam. Dean roused himself enough that he could move on without leaning on Sam so much.

Now the two brothers could make out the shape of a cabin. Sam helped Dean, and they soon made their way to the cabin’s front door and knocked, both hoping that the help they so desperately was just inside.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Sandy Jackson was lounging on her couch listening to the rain outside as she began reading the latest Tony Hillerman novel. She was so glad to be out here, at the secluded cabin, and was just enjoying the week off of work.  Truth be told she was a wee bit lonely, and wished somebody would stop by. Logically she knew they couldn’t, because every time it rained like this the low-water bridge was out for a few days, until the water level went down.

Sandy had just gotten into her book when someone pounded on the front door. Before she could even get up the pounding come again. Sandy wondered who the heck was there, especially this late at night. She opened the door to expose two soaked guys. One was covered with blood and leaning heavily on the other one.

Sandy was shocked. She definitely had not expected this.

“Can we come in?  My brother needs help,” the one supporting his brother pleaded.

This galvanized Sandy into action, “Bring him on in. You can put him on the couch. I’ll get some towels.”

Sandy hurried off, hoping she could help them, and that they weren’t ax wielding serial killers.

She came back with the towels and spread them out on the couch. As they laid the hurt brother onto the towels, the taller one introduced himself.

“I’m Sam, and this is my brother Dean. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome. I’m Sandy. What happened to him, he looks horrible!”

“A bear attacked us while we were hiking,” Sam easily amended the real story.

This shocked Sandy, “A bear? WOW! I’ve heard of several attacks lately, but thought nothing of it.”

“Do you have a phone so I can call 911, or a vehicle to get him to a hospital? I think he might have lost too much blood.” 

Sandy felt really bad, and hated that she had to tell Sam what she did, “Sorry, I don’t have a phone, and the cell don’t  get reception out here. And, I hate to pile on the bad news, but the road out of here has a low-water bridge that will be flooded for about three days, ’till the water dies down.”

Dean was almost completely out of it, but he was alert enough to catch what Sandy had just told Sam, and to know he was completely and totally screwed.

Sandy continued, “But for the good news, I have a first aid kit that the Marines would be jealous of. So, hopefully there will be something in there to help him. And, If you think your brother can wait a few more minutes,  I can get you and him some dry clothes.  With that, Sandy walked off, only pausing long enough to turn around and say.

“Oh, the bathroom is just down the hall, on the right,. You can also put your brother’s clothes there and I’ll wash them all.” Then she disappeared through a door.

Sam turned back to Dean, “I guess she can help us then.”

Dean opened his eyes a crack and tried to speak. Sam noticed this and put a hand on his fevered brow.

“It’ll be ok. We have help now.”

Dean managed to say, “Screwed.”

Sam smiled, “Hopefully not big brother. Hopefully not. Now let’s get these wet clothes off of you.”

Sam took off Dean’s shoes and set them beside the couch, then proceeded to take off his jeans. Dean managed to shoot Sam a death glare.

“Would you rather I leave you in these wet, cold clothes?”

Dean just closed his eyes, and slipped into unconsciousness. After getting the jeans and socks off, Sam went after his brother’s soaked jacket, which, miraculously had avoided getting shredded, aside from the tears on the sleeve.

Sam gently pealed Dean’s jacket and over shirt off, leaving him in one shirt that was too stuck to the wounds to remove now.

Sam looked around and spotted an afghan lying across a chair. Grabbing it, he laid it on his brother, hoping it would warm him up a little bit, because he was starting to shake.  Sam then grabbed the wet clothes and made his way to the bathroom to change out of his own soaking wet clothes.

 He had just stripped down to his boxers when Sandy knocked on the door with the dry clothes. Sam opened the door to get them, forgetting about his state of undress.

Sandy saw Sam’s muscled torso and lost all higher level function, she just slowly held the clothes out to him. After taking them, Sam quickly closed the door. He was through a second laterlooking like a little kid playing dress-up with his father’s clothes. Sandy stifled a laugh. “Looks good,” she joked, then handed him another pair of boxers, sweatpants, and an under shirt. “These are for Dean. I’m going to get those clothes into the wash. The first aid kit is behind you. I’ll be there in a sec.”

Sandy wasn’t lying when she said the first-aid kit was well stocked. It even had four suture kits, which would come in handy tonight. Sam found the trauma shears and started cutting Dean’s tattered shirt.

The wounds looked red and angry, but they had quit bleeding, which Sam was thankful for.

“I found some medicine in the cabinets. There are about 7 pain pills. I think they’re Tylenol 3, but not real sure about that. The other bottle is medicine for infection that I had left over after oral surgery,” Sandy handed Sam the meds after setting down washcloths and a pail of warm water.

“Thanks,” Sam took the meds and looked them over. He knew that Dean didn’t really like meds, for some reason Dean like to use alcohol to self medicate, but he figured now would be an exception.

 Sandy handed him a glass of water to wash the medicine down. Sam shook out two of each of the capsules, and woke Dean up just enough to take them.

“Come on Dean, I have something you need to take. Come on, Dean open up.”

Dean slowly opened his hazel eyes to see his little brother leaning over him.

“Personal space,” Dean mumbled.

“I’ll get out of your space as soon as you take these,” Sam told him as he put the pills into Dean’s uninjured hand. Dean popped the pills into his mouth and Sam gave him a sip of water to chase it down.

After Dean swallowed the pills he asked, “Alcohol?”

“Uh, let me check,” Sandy went into the kitchen and reappeared a minute later. “I found a bottle of Jack Daniels, and got a straw so it would be easier on Dean.”

When Sam saw it he started laughing. There was this big purple loopy straw sitting in the bottle of Jack. Dean even cracked a smile at the sight.

After Dean had a few drinks he looked at Sam, “OK, I’m ready for the fun part.”

“Pain pills kick in?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, the pain’s not so bad now.”

Sam and Sandy got their chairs situated nearer to Dean, and Sam checked Dean again, thankfully he was out.

“If you can work on his arm, I’ll start on his chest. First we need to get the blood and dirt off then we’ll go on from there,” Sam instructed.

“OK, just walk me through it,” Sandy said.

“Will do, let’s get started,” with that Sam picked up one of the washcloths and soaked it in the warm water. After ringing it out he started wiping the mess off of his unconscious brother’s chest.

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

After a few minutes of cleaning the wounds in silence, Sam became tired of hearing the rain on the roof, so he asked,

“Is this your house? You seem familiar with it, but unsure, as if you don’t know where some things are.”

“It used to be my grandparent’s cabin. When they died a couple of years ago they left the cabin to me. Right now I’m glad they did, so I can be here to help you and your brother.”

“Me too. The next step after we get these cleaned is to make sure there isn’t anything in the wounds, like pieces of clothing, dirt, and such.  After that, we have the fun of stitching humpty-dumpy back together again.” 

Sandy laughed at Sam’s little joke. She was so nervous that she would hurt Dean worse, or do something wrong, but Sam was helping her calm down and work. After working quietly for a while longer, Sandy broke the silence by asking,

“How do you know all this First-Aid stuff?”

Sam thought about saying, ‘Oh, me and Dean, we hunt evil things and get hurt a lot so our ex-Marine dad taught us how to patch each other up so we wouldn’t have to risk going to a hospital’

Instead he told her, “Our Dad was an ex-Marine. He taught us First-Aid, and I took some advanced classes in college.”

“Cool, I took a few classes in High School, but nothing like this. So, where do you go to college at?”

“Stanford.”

“Dang! That’s pretty impressive. It must have cost a pretty penny.”

Sam shrugged dismissively, “I had a full ride scholarship.”

 Sandy stopped working and looked at Sam in shock.

“Are you like a genius or something? Because, wow!”

Sam laughed at Sandy’s antics, “I don’t know. I’ve just always done well in school. How about you? Any scholarships?”

“I graduated this past year with a bachelors in Education. I had an academic scholarship, but lost it thanks to algebra which sucks, and I’ll never use it. Thankfully my leadership scholarship went up, and covered the deficit. College is expensive.”

Sam nodded, agreeing with her and remembering the old times at Stanford and Jess’s complaining about GPAs and scholarship restrictions, which now seamed like a lifetime ago.

Sandy’s voice broke into Sam’s thoughts,

“I think I’m done, but it’s bleeding a bit again.”

Looking over Dean’s arm Sam pronounced it clean and ready for stitches. He directed Sandy to get two of the suture kids out and get them ready for use.

Sam showed Sandy where the stitches would have to go into the deeper cuts and how to tie them. Thanks to her needlepoint skills, Sandy picked up on it quickly. About halfway through the stitching, Dean started moaning and moving around.

“Sam?” a panicked Sandy questioned.

As Sam tried to calm Dean down he asked, “How many pain pills do we have left? I think the ones we gave him earlier are starting to wear off.”

After quickly counting the ones she had left she answered, “Five.”

“Crap!” Sam thought for a second, “Check the first aid kid. There might be some more in there.”

Sandy hurriedly tore though the kit praying that some pain meds had been put in.

“Found some!” She crowed as she pulled them out of the kit.

“Good, get three of the Tylenol and two of the antibiotic.”

“Dean, Dean,” Sam shook his brother trying to rouse him.  When he opened his eyes Sam showed Dean the pills, “Open up, you need to take these, OK?”

Dean blinked a few times then opened his mouth. Sam dumped the pills in and gave him a sip of the whiskey that was still sitting beside him.

“OK, swallow now then you can go back to sleep,” Sam told Dean.

As soon as Dean swallowed the pills he went back to sleep. Sandy and Sam waited a few minutes for the medicine to kick in before starting back on the suturing again.

After thirty minutes of working in silence they were finished. The only thing left was to bandage the wounds. Sam put Betadyne on top of the stitches and ointment on top of that, and then the bandages.

“Do you think we should put the shirt on him?”  Sandy questioned.

“Probably not. Do you have a short sleeve button up one?”

“I think so. I’ll be back in a second,” Sandy said as she left.

True to her word, Sandy was back with a plaid button-up.

“Will this work?”

“Perfect. Can you help me get this on him?” Sam asked.

“Sure, what do you want me to do?”

“I’m going to pull him up, and if you could support his back while we get the shirt on that would be great.”

Sandy nodded her consent and moved to the arm of the couch. Sam gently lifted Dean into a sitting position, and Sandy slipped in behind him.

Dean groaned a little, but didn’t do anything else. The two eased on the shirt and gently laid him back down. Sam pulled the afghan he had found earlier over his big brother’s prone form.

Sandy notice how exhausted Sam looked, “Why don’t you get a bath and some sleep. It’s past one am, and you look like you need some rest. Don’t worry about Dean. I’m not the one who hiked through the woods dragging my brother. Go, I’ll watch him. I promise to get you if anything changes.”

Considering his options Sam decided to take her up on her offer, “Thanks.”

“ Welcome. You know where the bathroom is. The guest room is directly across from it.”

After Sam’s shower he realized just how tired he was and thanked Sandy silently for the bed. As soon as Sam’s head hit the pillow he was out like a light.

After Sam had left to take his shower, Sandy started picking up the living room; cleaning up everything, and reorganizing the First-Aid kit she had ripped through.  After cleaning that up, she got another blanket for Dean and went to check on the laundry.  She heard Sam go into the bedroom, and by the time she went by, he was already asleep.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

Sam slowly woke up, feeling a lot better than he had in a while. When he opened his eyes he was confused, but then remembered the Wendigo hunt gone bear attack and Sandy’s generous hospitality. 

Getting up, he noticed his clothes cleaned and dried and lying folded on a trunk at the end of the bed. He quickly dressed and looked at the time: 10:32 am.

‘Dang,’ he thought. ‘That’s why I feel so good this morning.’  Stepping out into the hall, he smelled something good cooking. He checked on Dean still sleeping on the couch, then made his way into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” a smiling Sandy greeted. She was standing over a griddle that had three pancakes cooking. “I hope you like pancakes, eggs, and bacon.”

Just thinking about all that food made his stomach growl.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Grab a plate and a cup, they’re in the cabinet over the sink. I made enough so Dean could have some if he feels up to it. I gave him two more of the antibiotic, and one of the pain pills about 8:00. He slept soundly all night, and his fever is down to 100.3.”

While Sandy was filling him in on Dean, Sam located a plate and was loading it with the eggs and bacon that Sandy had set onto the table. He looked around, trying to spot a coffee maker. When Sandy noticed this she asked,

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Coffee?”

“Sorry Sam, all I have to offer is milk or orange juice. I also have Nesquick if you want chocolate  milk.”

“Chocolate milk sounds good.”  It reminded him of stays at Bobby’s house when he was a kid.

Sandy agreed and got out the Nesquick two spoons, and handed them over to Sam. He looked questioningly at the two spoons.

“One is for mine,” Sandy explained.

“Oh, duh”

After they ate Sandy put two pancakes and some of the eggs on a plate and gave it to Sam for Dean. She even whipped up some hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream for the healing Winchester.

Sam went over to where his brother was still sleeping on the couch.  He carefully set the plate and mug on the coffee table, and leaned over to wake Dean up.

“Dude, wake up,” Sam told Dean as he lightly shook him. When Dean didn’t wake up he shook Dean harder. Still nothing.

Sam decided to try a new tactic, “Somebody scratched the Impala!” Dean’s eyes flew opened to see his gigantic little brother leaning over him laughing.

“Sam, personal space,”

 Sam grinned at the now awake Dean. “Sorry, how do you feel? And don’t say fine. I want the truth.”

“Not too bad. It hurts a little, but not too much. A little stiff.”

“Feel like eating? I got pancakes, eggs, and hot chocolate. You’re favorites,” Dean’s eyes lit up at the mention of pancakes, and he struggled to sit up with his one good arm. Sam automatically went to help.

“I got it,” Dean growled. Sam hated it when Dean was hurt and wouldn’t let him help. He just watched as Dean finally levered himself into a sitting position, then silently handed him the plate and set the cup within easy reaching distance.

Once Dean was settled and eating, Sandy came into the living room and saw Dean shoving down the food.

“Does he always eat like that?” Sandy questioned.

“Yeah, he can be a bit of a pig,” Sam smiled as he said this, happy that Dean was doing better.

“Well, you two behave. I’m going to take a nap. Help yourselves to whatever you want. Just don’t turn up the volume too loud on anything,” With that Sandy went to her room and closed the door.

Sam watched Dean shove the food down his throat for a few seconds, then went into the kitchen to see if there was anything left to clean up, but Sandy had already cleaned everything up, and the kitchen was spotless.

“Hey!” came from the living room, so Sam walked back in to see what his brother wanted.

“That girl the one who helped us last night?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I’m surprised you remember anything about last night.  You were pretty out of it.”

“I remember bits and pieces, but it’s all kinda fuzzy,” With that, Dean stuffed the last piece of pancake into his mouth, then drained the hot chocolate.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked again as he took the empty plate and cup, then carried them to the kitchen. “And don’t lie”

Dean sighed; Sam had just asked this same question not thirty minutes ago. “Better. It hurts, but not too bad. Right now all I want to do is to lay back and maybe sleep till supper.”

Sam rolled his eyes at how his brother marked time according to his stomach.

“Need anything?”

Dean hesitated before answering, then slowly said, “Yeah, I kinda need to go to the bathroom.”

 “OK,” Sam went over and helped Dean to his unsteady feet. Dean tried to shake off Sam’s help while they were walking, but Sam refused to let go.

By the time they made it back to the couch Dean was pale and looked ready to drop.

“Need a pain pill?”

Dean nodded, and after swallowing it drifted off to sleep, leaving Sam to try and find something else to do. Spying Sandy’s laptop, he went over and booted it up, hoping she would have Internet.

 Opening Google, he typed in ‘bear attacks’ hoping to find a site that could be helpful to Dean. All the results, though, were either how to prevent an attack, or what to do during an attack, something that would have been helpful before, but not now. Giving up on the bear aspect, Sam decided to check his e-mail and just surf the net, maybe even find their next job.

After a few hours on the Internet he was getting hungry, so he got off and went to check on Dean, who was still sleeping peacefully. Sam then decided to go and see what he could find in the kitchen. Scrounging around, he found the fixings for a turkey sandwich. After making the sandwich and grabbing a drink and some chips he headed back to the computer. There might be something in Georgia, and Ash had sent him the funniest hunting story.

Several hours later, Sandy came out of her room looking refreshed and relaxed from her nap. Walking into the small room, Sandy stopped and checked on Dean, then continued on over to Sam.

“What’cha doin’?”

“Just checking e-mail and surfing the net. Is that ok?”

“That’s fine by me. I’m starving. Is spaghetti good for you and Dean?”

Sam gave her a weird look.

“What?” Sandy asked.

“So far you’ve fixed two of Dean’s favorite foods. This is just too weird. If this keeps up, he might try to get hurt more often,” Sam joked.

 Sandy just laughed, “Do you want English peas with that, or is it another one of Dean’s favorites?”

“Dean tries to avoid any and all veggies, and anything green. Do you need any help?” Sam recalled that back at Stanford, Jess really loved having him help.

“Naw, I got this,” Sandy replied from the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later, and the spaghetti was almost ready.

“Hey, Sam?” Sandy called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Dean will want to try to eat with us at the table, or will he want to eat on the couch?”

Sam thought for a second, “Probably the table.”

“OK, well it’ll be done in a second, so you might want to wake him up.”

Sandy placed three steaming plates of spaghetti on the table with the peas and breadsticks. Dean slowly made his way to the table with Sam hovering right behind him.

“Smells and looks delicious,” Dean commented.

“But of course. I did make it after all,” Sandy joked. “I hope you enjoy it.”

Dean flashed her his lady-killer smile, and started to pick up his fork and stuff his face.

“Uhm, blessing first. Sam do you think you could?”

Sam looked stricken, and Dean tried not to laugh. Sam managed to stumble through it and they all helped themselves to the food.

“Would ya’ll maybe be interested in watching a movie or something after supper?” Sandy asked between bites of breadstick.

“Depends on what you have to watch,” responded Dean, the movie critic. “I am _not_ going to watch some chick flic.”

Sandy raised her eyebrow á la Teal’c “And what, pray tell, would constitute a chick flic?”

Dean didn’t know how to respond and looked to Sam for support.  Sam just grinned back at him, not helping at all. Sandy let Dean squirm for a few more seconds.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like those sappy movies either. Let’s see, I’ve got _The Patriot, American Outlaws, The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, Last of the Mohicans, Oh Brother Where Art Thou, Pearl Harbor,_ and _Secondhand Lions_ just to name a few.”

It was decided they would watch _Oh Brother_ , then _American Outlaws_ , because Dean hadn’t seen either of them. Sandy insisted that if they finished both movies and still had time, they had to see _Secondhand Lions._

Dean sprawled back on his couch with Sandy at the other end and Sam on recliner. _Oh Brother_ was good, and while Sandy put in _American Outlaws,_ Sam went over to make Dean take the last of the antibiotic. 

Dean asked, “Where was the bar, that sat beside the crossroads?  They should try to be accurate in these movies.”

“Those aren’t the only crossroads. Deals can be made at any dirt crossroads.”

“Dude, I know. I was just kidding, relax!”

Halfway through _American Outlaws_ , Sam started falling sleep. His head would start to fall, then he would jerk awake, and the cycle would repeat itself. Sandy paused the DVD and nudged Dean, who got a chuckle out of it.

“Hey Sam, are you tired?” Sandy asked rhetorically.

“A little,” he admitted.

“You can use the guest room again. You don’t have to sleep on the recliner,” Sandy offered

Mechanically Sam stood up, “Yeah, I think I will.”

After Sam left Dean commented, “Watching movies always puts him to sleep. If I ever had trouble getting him to sleep, all I had to do was put in a tape and off he went.”

Sandy smile at Dean’s fond recollection.

“Ready to finish the movie?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good so far. I like this one.”

“Me too! It’s one of my favorites.”

When _American Outlaws_ went off neither one was particularly sleepy, so Sandy popped in _Secondhand Lions_. They both fell asleep on the couch watching the movie.

 

 

AN: In the movie _Oh Brother_ the musician Robert Johnston is in it.  He claims that he sold his soul at the crossroads to gain musical talent.  The same occurrence happened in the episode ‘Crossroad Blues’

Teal’c is a character on Stargate SG-1. If you haven’t seen it, watch it now, because you don’t know what you have been missing, it’s available on Hulu

 

 

 

Chapter 6

 

Sam was the first one up. He quickly had a shower and dressed in the same clothes. At the moment, he wished the creek would go down. Not because of Sandy, because she was very nice and had given them their first homemade meal in who knows when. No, he wanted some different clothes.  He was sick and tired of the same old clothes.

Walking into the living room he saw Sandy and Dean curled up on opposite ends of the couch asleep. Sam couldn’t decide weather or not to wake Sandy up for breakfast. She made the decision for him when she woke up.

“Hey, what do you want for breakfast? I’ll make it while you get ready,” Sam offered.

“Thanks! I really appreciate it. There are some homemade frozen waffles in the freezer. The toaster is under the microwave,” Sandy stood up and stretched, happy to have someone else make breakfast for her, something that never happened.

When Dean woke up an hour later, his head was pounding and the ache in his chest was worse than yesterday, but he chalked it up to not having a pain pill the night before. This morning he was determined to take a shower and hopefully get his own clothes back. Spotting the pain pills, he shook out two and swallowed them dry, hoping that the pills combined with breakfast and a shower would make him feel human.

Sitting up slowly, he spotted Sandy sitting at the counter eating and reading a book.

 “Hey.”

Sandy jumped a little, “Sorry, I forgot I had company.”

“Where’s Sam?” Dean had noticed the lack of his gigantic little brother’s hovering when he woke up.

“Oh, he went out to see if the water level went down enough to cross. I think he wants his own stuff, and is tired of wearing the same clothes.”

“Good, so what’s for breakfast?”

“Waffles and hot chocolate. You want to eat on the couch?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thanks.”

“ ’Welcome.”

After he finished breakfast, Dean was feeling a little better, and was determined to get a shower in.

“The breakfast was great!” Dean complemented, knowing that Sam had probably told Sandy not to let Dean up until Sam got back.

“Thanks,” Sandy replied as she came over to get the plates. “Do you want anything else?”

“Well, I’m going to take a shower; do you think I could get my clothes back?”

Sandy gnawed on her lip. Sam had asked her to keep an eye on Dean, and he might not be happy about the shower, but Dean looked so hopeful and she couldn’t take that away.

“Yeah, but please keep the top you’ve got. It’s easier to get to those arm wounds. And please leave the door open a bit.  I’ll set a towel and your clothes out for when you’re done.”

“Yes, mom, any other rules I have to abide by?” Not waiting for an answer, Dean levered himself off the couch and hobbled into the bathroom.

Dean had been in the shower for about tem minutes when Sam came back from the creek. Sandy looked up from her book when she heard the door open.

“Hey, the water level down any?” Sandy questioned.

“The creek is running fast and the level is still up. From the debris on the bank it’s come down a lot though.”

“So that means that it will probably be safe to cross be either tomorrow afternoon or the day after that.”

Sam sat on the couch and realized that Dean wasn’t there,

“Where’s…” Sam started, but Sandy cut him off.

“He’s in the shower,” at Sam’s look of alarm she added, “Don’t worry, he ate breakfast and the door is unlocked. I think he’s feeling better.  At least he’s not so pale.”

That relieved some of Sam’s uneasiness. A few minutes later, Dean appeared with his own jeans on, but the same button up he had had on for the past few days. He slowly made his way back to the couch and sat down beside his brother.

Dean got his brother’s patented ‘I’m worried.’ look.

“I’m fine, really. I’m feeling better. I even changed my bandages all by myself,” truthfully, he still felt like crap, and his head still hurt, but Dean was tired of Sam’s hovering. The three of them sat there in silence for a while until Sandy asked.

“Y’all want to play Guitar Hero II? It’s pretty fun, and we can compete with each other.”

While at Stanford, Sam had played it a few times and really liked the game. He was especially good at _Heart Shaped Box_.

“Sure,” turning to his half-asleep brother he said, “You’ll love it. It has some of the songs you love.”

Dean played for a little while, until he got too tired and turned his controller over to Sandy. Sam was killer with the guitar, but Sandy was equally as good with the controller. The two battled back and forth until they were too hungry to play anymore.

They couldn’t decide what to make for lunch, so Sam decided to go wake Dean up to see what he might want. When he went to give his brother a shake, Sam could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Sandy, can you get the thermometer?”

Coming back into the living room she gave him a questioning look.

“I think he’s running a fever.”

“Oh crap,” with that, Sandy hurried off to the bathroom to get the thermometer.

Sam looked down at his brother, “Why didn’t you tell me that you were feeling worse? Why don’t you tell me anything?”

Just then, Sandy returned with the thermometer. Dean’s temperature was 101.7.  They got some Tylenol down him, and hoped that would be enough.  Sandy went into the kitchen to get something for her and Sam to eat while Sam attended to his sleeping brother.

Dean woke with a groan and said, “Sick.”

Sam tried to get Dean up to go to the bathroom, when Sandy shoved a trashcan in front of Dean. The next instant everything he had eaten came back up. Dean kept on vomiting for a little while, his body trembling with the force of the heaves. Sandy brought him a cool washcloth for his forehead and a glass of water to wash out his mouth.

Dean whispered, “Thanks,” then fell into an exhausted sleep.

“What should we do?” Sandy asked Sam.

“I don’t know. I think an infection has set in, and if that’s correct, then he’s going to get a lot worse. But the creek crossing looks too dangerous.  Danged if we do, danged if we don’t,” Sam wearily responded.

“How about we stay here and go tomorrow morning unless his temperature gets to 103. If that happens, we leave and pray for the best. Sound OK?” Sandy suggested.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, clearly upset at the prospect of having to wait.

“You need anything? I’m going to make those sandwiches and then see if I can find anything on the Internet to help us.”

“The only thing I need is for my big brother to get well,” Sandy sensed the desperation in Sam’s voice. She walked over and drew him into a hug and whispered,

“He will be. Especially with you there to help him.”

Releasing Sandy, Sam thanked her for the support. Sandy quickly put the sandwiches together, and told Sam if he didn’t eat his sandwich she would force it down his throat. Sitting in her chair, she flipped her laptop on and pulled the Internet up. She was fixing to check her e-mails when the weather alert popped up showing that there were more storms coming in.

‘Holy crap,’ she thought. “Sam, come here,” noting the edge of panic in her voice, he hurried over.

“What?”

Sandy pointed at the screen, “More storms. The weather service is predicting heavy rainfall. If we don’t risk it now, we’ll be stuck here for a while. Don’t worry, we’ll make it across. God is with us.”

With that, they went to get ready to leave. Sam took Dean’s temperature, which was up to 102.3. Not good. He bundled Dean up and carried his unconscious brother out to Sandy’s truck. It was about a two miles drive from the house to the crossing. Seeing the raging creek Sandy stopped back aways.

“If there was any perfect time for prayer, it would be now,” Sandy commented as she shifted the truck into four-wheel drive and floored the accelerator. The truck jumped forward with a powerful roar. The distance between them and the creek was quickly closed and they entered with a huge splash! They were only a few feet from the other bank when the truck started to move downstream.

 

 

A/N:  My little sister has recently become addicted to Guitar Hero II.  She won’t even give it back to our friend who we borrowed it from.  Anyways, she dared me to put it into the story.  So I figured that it could be the reason Sam didn’t realize Dean was getting worse.

 

Chapter 7

 

Sandy gave it a bit more gas and the front tires touched solid ground and pulled them the rest of the way out of the swelled creek. Sandy and Sam both gave a sigh of relief, and thanked the Lord, then Sandy shifted back into two-wheel drive and took off down the winding country road, determined to get Dean to the hospital quickly.

Once they hit the highway Sandy called the hospital and told them to expect them. Seeing the lights of the hospital, Sam had never been so relieved in his life, except for when Dean had awakened from his coma. The hospital staff was waiting out front for them. They came to a screeching halt in front of the assembled personnel, and Sam placed his still unconscious brother onto the gurney. Then Dean was whisked away. The nurse handed Sam a clipboard with the papers he needed to fill out, and showed him the waiting room.  A few minutes later, Sandy came in from parking the truck and took the seat beside Sam.

They waited for about an hour until a doctor came out asking for the family of Dean James. Dr. Matt Burns explained that Dean has a bad infection as a result of the bear’s claws, and they had him on some strong antibiotics and painkillers. Sam went on back to Dean’s room while Sandy stayed and talked to Dr. Burns, who was a childhood friend. Plus, she wanted to give Sam some private time with his brother.

Sam walked into Dean’s hospital room and stood there a moment, happy that Dean was alive and finally on the road to recovery. Sitting down beside Dean’s bed, Sam took his sibling’s hand.

“You can’t do this to me anymore. All this almost dying stuff is killing me. I’m just thankful you’re impossible to kill,” Sam couldn’t put into words how he was feeling, so he just sat there holding his big brother’s hand until he fell asleep on top of Dean’s arm.

Sandy came by to see how Dean was doing and found Sam asleep on Dean’s arm. With a chuckle, she left a note saying she went home with Dr. Burns for the night and would come by in the morning with breakfast.

Dean opened his eyes and looked around, wondering a second where he was, then he realized it was a hospital. The next thing he became aware of was a heavy weight on his arm. Funny, he remembered getting clawed on the other arm. Looking down, there was his little brother asleep on his arm. That accounted for his not being able to move it. Mentally, Dean took stock of how he really felt. Very little pain, and he felt really good, but still a bit tired. Good meds, he concluded. Wanting to get Sam off his arm, he called his brother’s name.

“Sam,” it came out as a whisper. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“Sam,” this time his little brother stirred, waking up.

“Hey, you’re awake!”

“Brilliant deduction Sherlock,” Dean shot back, dripping with sarcasm. “Could you move your big Sasquatch body, it’s killing my arm.”

Sam looked guilty and quickly moved. “So how are you feeling?  No crap, or I’ll kill you!”

“I think they gave me the good meds. I fell all warm and tingly inside.”

“That’s because I’m here,” A voice came from the door, and Sandy came into the room with three cups and a bag of food.

Dean’s eyes lit up at the prospect of not having to eat what the hospital tried to pass off as food.

“I brought two breakfast specials and two coffees for y’all.”

Sam started to protest, “Have you cleared this with the doctor?”

“Yep, in fact it was Dr. Burns who paid for it,” Sandy replied with a cheeky grin from her spot on the foot of Dean’s bed. “So eat up!”

Halfway through their meal, Dean dropped his fork. Two pairs of eyes looked at him in surprise.

“Sam have you gotten the Impala? I don’t want my baby out there in a backwoods parking lot where she might get hurt.”

Sandy stifled a laugh, guys and their cars.

“Yeah, after we patched you up, I went tracking back through the woods to where we got lost and miraculously found my way back to the Impala and then I drove it back down the path and through the woods to Sandy’s house.”

“All you had to do was say no, Sam. No need for sarcasm,” Dean sweetly replied.

Sam just groaned, “Let me guess, you want me to get the Impala and bring it here.”

Giving Sam his best ‘I love you little bro’ smile, he added, “Please?”

Chiming in, Sandy said, “I wouldn’t mind giving you a ride up there.  It wouldn’t be problem.”

“After breakfast?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Sure,” they both replied.

Dean was getting extremely bored. The doctor had visited saying that he should be able to leave the next day if he was still doing well. Then Sam and Sandy had left to go get Baby. He hoped Sam was treating her right. To top it all off, daytime TV still sucked. The only thing that was even remotely interesting was that TV show _Dark Angel_ with hottie Jessica Alba, and that one character Alec, now he was a funny guy!  _Dark Angel_ was a marathon on the Sci-fi channel, so Dean decided to just leave it on. Finally, he heard his brother’s voice from down the hallway.

“Those speed limit signs are there for a reason you know.”

Walking into the room Sandy replied, “And the little pedal on the right is there for a reason.” Turning to Dean she complained, “Your brother drives like a grandma.”

Dean grinned. Sam retorted, “She drives like you do. Crazy. I thought she only drove like that last night to get you to the hospital, but no. It’s an all time thing.”

Still grinning Dean tuned to Sandy, “Marry me?”

“Sure, but what would we do with your slow poke brother. I don’t think he’d be able to keep up with us.”

“Your right, Sammy wouldn’t. He just don’t have enough fire in him like we do.”

Sitting on the bottom of Dean’s bed, Sandy made herself comfortable.  They all sat there chatting a little while before Sam asked,

“What could we do for you? You’ve done so much for us,” Sam said, ever the gentleman.

Sandy thought for a second, “Let me see your phones.”

Sam got both his and Dean’s phone and handed them to her.

“You want our phones?” Dean questioned. Sandy held up a finger silencing them.

After she was done playing with them, she handed them back to Sam.

“You have to agree to come back and visit, because nobody will believe me if I say I helped save this guy who was attacked by a bear.”

“OK, but why did you need out phones?” Dean wondered.

“To make sure you would call before you visit next time. I want to make sure I have enough bandages for the next visit!” Sandy joked.

 

 

 

A/N: Well this concludes my little story. I hope you have enjoyed reading it. The whole, gas pedal / speed limit, line really took place, and I thought it was good enough line to fit into the story!  Please review and tell me what you thought!

 

 


End file.
